Canterbury Aleworks

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Every second Thursday night pack your sea bag and head out to sea! Join the rolickin' ship of fools at the Taproom from 7-9 pm for Sea Shanty Sing-along night!  Hoist the sails! Its fair winds and following seas!  

 

check out our facebook page for event notifications and instructions to purchase tickets via Eventbright

or use this link:  https://www.eventbrite.com/e/790360087297?aff=oddtdtcreator

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Below are some of the songs we will be bellowing, er, I mean singing.  

 

Our very own resident "Shanty Man" Mike Green sings the verses,

and we sing the responses!

 

Don't worry!  It's super easy! AND SUPER FUN! Everyting will be  taught as we go!

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Haul Away Joe

Santiana
Old Maui

Woodpile

Maid of Amsterdam

Drunken Sailor
Go to Sea No More

Wellerman
Whiskey Johnny
The Leaving of Liverpool

Blow the Man Down
John Paul Jones is a Pirate

Roll the Old Chariot

Spanish Ladies

Irish Rover
John Kanaka
South Australia
Molly Malone
Paddy on the Railway

Randy Dandy-O
All for Me Grog
Bully in the Alley

Johnny Leave Her

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Haul Away Joe

From the book “Folk Songs of Old New England” we learn that this shanty was “sung by Capt. Charlton L. Smith, master mariner and yacht master since 1889, who remembers the shanty as it was sung in deep water ships, aboard which he sailed as ‘chips,’ or ship’s carpenter. During his last eight years at sea he served as an officer. This is a short-drag chantey and was used mainly for tightening the sheet. The last word ‘Joe’ was the moment for all hands to haul together. Additional verses were added by the shantyman until the duty was done to the mate’s satisfaction. This shanty is thought to have appeared on Yankee ships sometime between 1812 and the Civil War, although it was known much earlier among British sailors.”

 

When I was just a little lad, or so me Mammi told me

Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe

That if I didn't kiss the girls me lips would grow all mouldy

Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe

Away! HO! Haul away, we'll haul away together Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe
Away! HO! Haul away, we'll hope for better weather Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe

I used to have an Irish girl but she got fat and lazy

Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe

But now I've got a Bristol girl and she just drives me crazy

Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe

Away! HO! Haul away, we'll haul away together Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe
Away! HO! Haul away, we'll hope for better weather Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe

Oh Louis was the king of France before the Revolut-i-on

Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe

Then he got his head chopped off & it spoiled his constitut-i-on

Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe

Away! HO! Haul away, we'll haul away together Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe
Away! HO! Haul away, we'll hope for better weather Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe

Ya call yourself a "Second Mate", ya cann'e tie a bowline

Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe

You can't even stand up straight when the packet, she's a-rollin'

Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe

Away! HO! Haul away, we'll haul away together Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe
Away! HO! Haul away, we'll hope for better weather Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe

Well now can't ya see... the black clouds a-gatherin'

Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe

Well now can't ya see... the storm clouds a-risin'

Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe

Away! HO! Haul away, we'll haul away together Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe
Away! HO! Haul away, we'll hope for better weather Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe

 

Santiana

The theme of the shanty, which dates from at least the 1850s, may have been inspired by topical events in the news related to conflicts between the armies of Mexico, commanded by Antonio López de Santa Anna, and the U.S., commanded by Zachary Taylor, in the Mexican–American War.[1]

 

Oh Santiana gained the day

Away Santianna

Now pull the yan up the west they say

Along the plains of Mexico

Well heave her up and away we'll go Away Santiana
Heave her up and away we'll go Along the plains of Mexico

She's a fast clipper ship and a bully good crew

Away Santiana

And an old salty Yank for a captain too

Along the plains of Mexico

Well heave her up and away we'll go Away Santiana
Heave her up and away we'll go Along the plains of Mexico

Santiana fought for gold

Away Santiana

Around Cape Horn through the ice and snow

Along the plains of Mexico

Well heave her up and away we'll go Away Santiana
Heave her up and away we'll go Along the plains of Mexico

'Twas on the field of Molly-Del-Rey

Away Santiana

Well both his legs got blown away

Along the plains of Mexico

Well heave her up and away we'll go Away Santiana
Heave her up and away we'll go Along the plains of Mexico

It was a fierce and bitter strife

Away Santiana

The general Taylor took his life

Along the plains of Mexico

Well heave her up and away we'll go Away Santiana
Heave her up and away we'll go Along the plains of Mexico

Santiana now we mourn

Away Santiana

We left him buried off Cape Horn

Along the plains of Mexico

 

Old Maui

Mid 1800s

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It's a damned tough life, full of toil and strife
We whalermen undergo.
And we won't give a damn when the gales are done, How hard the winds did blow.
For we're homeward bound from the Arctic round with a good ship taut and free,
And we won't give a damn when we drink our rum With the girls of old Maui

Rolling down to old Maui, me boys,
Rolling down to old Maui.
We're homeward bound from the arctic grounds Rolling down to old Maui.

Once more we sail with the northerly gales Through the ice, the wind, and rain.
Them coconut fronds, them tropical shores We soon shall see again.

For six hellish months we've passed away on the arctic sea,
But now we're bound from the arctic round, (Rolling down to old Maui.)

Rolling down to old Maui, me boys,

Rolling down to old Maui.
We're homeward bound from the arctic grounds Rolling down to old Maui.

Once more we sail with the northerly gales, toward our island home.
Our whaling done, our main mast sprung, and we ain't got far to roam

Our stuns'l bones is carried away What care we for that sound?
A living gale is after us,
Thank God we're homeward bound!

Rolling down to old Maui, me boys,
Rolling down to old Maui.
We're homeward bound from the arctic grounds Rolling down to old Maui.

How soft the breeze of the island trees, Now the ice is far astern,
Them native maids, them tropical glades is awaiting our return.

Even now their big brown eyes look out Hoping some fine day to see
Our baggy sails running 'fore the gales Rolling down to old Maui.

Rolling down to old Maui, me boys, Rolling down to old Maui.

We're homeward bound from the arctic grounds Rolling down to old Maui.

Rolling down to old Maui, me boys,
Rolling down to old Maui.
We're homeward bound from the arctic grounds Rolling down to old Maui.

 

Woodpile

Traditional American Shanty of unknown origin. The meaning of the main phrase “Rollin’ the Woodpile Down” itself is debated.

 

Ah-way down South where the cocks do crow!

Way down in Florida

Them girls all dance to the old banjo

And we'll roll the woodpile down

Rollin’! Rollin! Rollin'! Rollin’!
Rollin' the whole world round!
That fine gal'a mine's on the Georgia line! And we'll roll the woodpile down!

Oh, what can you do in Tampa Bay?

Way down in Florida

But give them pretty girls all your pay

And we'll roll the woodpile down

Rollin’! Rollin! Rollin'! Rollin’!
Rollin' the whole world round!
That fine gal'a mine's on the Georgia line! And we'll roll the woodpile down!

We'll roll'em high and we'll roll'em low!

Way down in Florida

We'll roll'er up and away we'll go!

And we'll roll the woodpile down

Rollin’! Rollin! Rollin'! Rollin’!
Rollin' the whole world round!
That fine gal'a mine's on the Georgia line! And we'll roll the woodpile down!

Oh roust and bust her is the cry!

Way down in Florida

A sailor's wage is never high

And we'll roll the woodpile down

Rollin’! Rollin! Rollin'! Rollin’!
Rollin' the whole world round!
That fine gal'a mine's on the Georgia line! And we'll roll the woodpile down!

Oh, one more pull and that will do!

Way down in Florida

For we're the boys to kick her through!

And we'll roll the woodpile down

Rollin’! Rollin! Rollin'! Rollin’!
Rollin' the whole world round!
That fine gal'a mine's on the Georgia line! And we'll roll the woodpile down!

 

Maid of Amsterdam

The song may date to the Elizabethan or Jacobean era, and versions have been found in Great Britain, Denmark, and France. Late 1500-early 1600’s. A cautionary tale about a married woman who would use sailors for money.

 

In Amsterdam there lived a maid

Mark well what I do say,

In Amsterdam there lived a maid
And she was mistress of her trade.
I'll go no more a roving with you fair maid

A-roving, a-roving
Since roving's been my ru-i-n
I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid.

One night I crept from my abode

Mark well what I do say,

One night I crept from my abode
To meet this fair maid down the road.
I'll go no more a roving with you fair maid

A-roving, a-roving
Since roving's been my ru-i-n
I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid.

I took her to her favorite park

Mark well what I do say

I took her to her favorite park
And we sat down where it was dark
I'll go no more a roving with you fair maid

A-roving, a-roving
Since roving's been my ru-i-n
I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid.

I kissed her once I kissed her twice

Mark well what I do say

I kissed her once I kissed her twice
She said, “Young man that’s oh so nice.
I'll go no more a roving with you fair maid

A-roving, a-roving
Since roving's been my ru-i-n
I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid.

I put my hand upon her knee,

Mark well what I do say,

I put my hand upon her knee;
She said, "Young sir you're rather free.”
I'll go no more a roving with you fair maid

A-roving, a-roving
Since roving's been my ru-i-n
I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid.

I put hand upon her thigh,

Mark well what I do say,

I put hand upon her thigh;
She said, "Young sir you're rather high!”
I'll go no more a roving with you fair maid

A-roving, a-roving
Since roving's been my ru-i-n
I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid.

I put my hand up higher still

Mark well what I do say

I put my had up higher still
She said “Young man that’s quite a thrill!”
I'll go no more a roving with you fair maid

A-roving, a-roving
Since roving's been my ru-i-n
I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid.

She swore that she’d be true to me

Mark well what I do say

She swore that she’d be true to me
But she spent me money fast and free
I'll go no more a roving with you fair maid

A-roving, a-roving
Since roving's been my ru-i-n
I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid.

And when I came back home from sea

Mark well what I do say

And when I came back home from sea
A soldier had her on his knee
I'll go no more a roving with you fair maid

A-roving, a-roving
Since roving's been my ru-i-n
I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid.

A-roving, a-roving
Since roving's been my ru-i-n
I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid.

 

Drunken Sailor

is a traditional sea shanty, sung onboard sailing ships at least as early as the 1830s

 

What shall we do with the drunken sailor? What shall we do with the drunken sailor? What shall we do with the drunken sailor?

Ear-ly in the morning

What shall we do with the drunken sailor? What shall we do with the drunken sailor? What shall we do with the drunken sailor?

Ear-ly in the morning

Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises

Ear-ly in the morning

Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises

Ear-ly in the morning

Put him in the long boat 'til he's sober Put him in the long boat 'til he's sober Put him in the long boat 'til he's sober

Ear-ly in the morning

Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises

Ear-ly in the morning

Put him in the long boat 'til he's sober Put him in the long boat 'til he's sober Put him in the long boat 'til he's sober

Ear-ly in the morning

Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises

Ear-ly in the morning

Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises

Ear-ly in the morning

Tie him to the scuppers with the hose pipe on him Tie him to the scuppers with the hose pipe on him Tie him to the scuppers with the hose pipe on him

Ear-ly in the morning

Tie him to the scuppers with the hose pipe on him Tie him to the scuppers with the hose pipe on him Tie him to the scuppers with the hose pipe on him

Ear-ly in the morning

Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises

Ear-ly in the morning

Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises

Ear-ly in the morning

Shave his belly with a rusty razor Shave his belly with a rusty razor Shave his belly with a rusty razor

Ear-ly in the morning

Shave his belly with a rusty razor Shave his belly with a rusty razor Shave his belly with a rusty razor

Ear-ly in the morning

Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises

Ear-ly in the morning

Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises

Ear-ly in the morning

That's what we do with the drunken sailor!

That's what we do with the drunken sailor

That's what we do with the drunken sailor!

Ear-ly in the morning

That's what we do with the drunken sailor!

That's what we do with the drunken sailor

That's what we do with the drunken sailor!

Ear-ly in the morning

Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises

Ear-ly in the morning

Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises Hooray, and up she rises

Ear-ly in the morning

 

Go to Sea Once More

The exact origins of the song can be traced to the English Merchant Navy, likely from the 1700 - 1900 period.

 

When first I came to Liverpool

I went upon a spree

Me money alas I spent too fast

Got drunk as drunk could be

And when my money was all gone

'Twas then I needed more

But a man must be blind to make up his mind

To go to sea once more

Once more, once more

Go to sea once more

A man must be blind to make up his mind

To go to sea once more

I spent the night with Angeline

Too drunk to roll in bed

Me watch was new and me money too

In the mornin' with 'em she fled

And as I roamed the streets about

The whores all had a roar

Here comes Jack Rack, the young sailin' lad

He must go to sea once more

Once more, once more

Go to sea once more

There goes Jack Rack, the young sailin’ lad

He must go to sea once more

As I was walkin’ the street at dawn

I met with Rapper Brown

I asked for him to take me in

And he looked at me with a frown

He said last time you was paid off

With me you’ll job no score

But I'll take your advance and I'll give ya's a chance

And I'll send you to sea once more

Once more, once more

Go to sea once more

I’ll take your advance and I’ll give you a chance

And send you to sea once more

He sent me on of a whaling ship

Bound for the Artic seas

Where the cold winds blow through the frost and the snow

And Jamaican rum would freeze

And worst and bear I'd no hard weather gear

For I'd lost all my money ashore

'Twas then that I wished that I was dead

And could go to sea no more

No more, no more

Go to sea no more

Twas then that I wished that I was dead

And could go to sea no more

Some days were catching whales me lads

Some days were catching none

With a 20 foot oar stuck in your paw

from 4 o’clock in the morn

And when the day is finally done

You’ll rest on your weary oar

Twas then that I wished that I was dead

Or back with the girls ashore

No more, no more

Go to sea no more

Twas then that I wished that I was dead

Or back the the girls ashore

Come all you bold seafarin' men

And listen to my song

If you come off of them long trips

I'd have you not go wrong

Take my advice, drink no strong drink

Don't go sleeping with no whores

Get married lads and have all night in bed

And go to sea no more

No more, no more

Go to sea no more

Get married instead and spend all night in bed

And go to sea no more

No more, no more

Go to sea no more

Get married instead and spend all night in bed

And go to sea no more

 

The Wellerman

The song hails from New Zealand, likely some time in the 1830s. The song is believed to have been written in New Zealand around 1860–1870. While its authorship is unknown, it may have been written by a pirate or shore whaler and may have served as a "cutting-in shanty" that whalers would sing as they slaughtered a whale. The Wellerman in the song was literally the man from the Weller Brothers Company., one of the earliest whaling and trading companies to make a fortune in New Zealand and Australia. This song also highlights the sad reality that those who worked as whaler men faced as often there was no “pay” to speak of. Many were “paid” in butter, sugar, and rum and other goods that did little but kept them working for survival and foreign a reliance on the company.

 

There once was a ship that put to sea The name of the ship was the Billy o’ Tea The winds blew up, her bow dipped down Oh blow, my bully boys, blow

Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum One day, when the tonguing is done We'll take our leave and go

She'd not been two weeks from shore When down on her a right whale bore The captain called all hands and swore He'd take that whale in tow

Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum One day, when the tonguing is done We'll take our leave and go

Before the boat had hit the water
The whale's tail came up and caught her
All hands to the side, harpooned and fought her When she dived down low

Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum One day, when the tonguing is done We'll take our leave and go

No line was cut, no whale was freed
The captain's mind was not of greed
And he belonged to the Whaleman's creed She took that ship in tow

Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum

One day, when the tonguing is done We'll take our leave and go

For forty days or even more
The line went slack then tight once more All boats were lost, there were only four But still that whale did go

Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum One day, when the tonguing is done We'll take our leave and go

As far as I've heard, the fight's still on
The line's not cut, and the whale's not gone The Wellerman makes his regular call
To encourage the captain, crew and all

Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum One day, when the tonguing is done We'll take our leave and go

Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum One day, when the tonguing is done We'll take our leave and go

 

Blood Red Roses

Blood red roses is a long haul shanty that accompanied the extended heavy work of raising sails. It’s peppered with colourful epithets and alludes to the perils of rounding Cape Horn, the southernmost tip of South America, where there are strong winds and fierce seas nearly all year round. The rising phrases of the tune act as preparation for the strenuous pulls on the lower-pitched words ‘Go down’.

‘Blood red roses’ may refer to the red uniforms of the British Marines – but the precise origin of the term is unknown.

 

Our boots and clothes are all in pawn
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

And its flamin' drafty 'round Cape Horn,
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

Oh, ye pinks and posies,
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

My dear old mother said to me,
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.
My dearest son, come home from sea.
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

Oh, ye pinks and posies,
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

It's 'round Cape Horn we all must go
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.
'Round Cape Horn in the frost and snow.
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

Oh, ye pinks and posies,
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

You got your advance, and to sea you'll go
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.
To chase them whales through the frost and snow.
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

Oh, ye pinks and posies,
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

It's 'round Cape Horn you've got to go,
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.
For that is where them whalefish swim and blow.
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

Oh, ye pinks and posies,
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

It's growl you may, but go you must,
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.
If you growl too much your head they'll bust.
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

Oh, ye pinks and posies,
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

Just one more pull and that will do
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.
For we're the boys to kick her through.
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

Oh, ye pinks and posies,
Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

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Whiskey Johnny

Mid to late 1800s

 

Oh whiskey is the life of man
Always was since the world began Whiskey-O Johnny-O
Riser her up from down below Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o
Up aloft this yard must go
John rise her up from down below

Oh, I drink whiskey when I can Whiskey from an old tin can

Whiskey-O Johnny-O
Riser her up from down below Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o
Up aloft this yard myst go
John rise her up from down below

Whiskey made me soil me cloths Whiskey gave me a broken nose

Whiskey-O Johnny-O
Riser her up from down below Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o
Up aloft this yard myst go
John rise her up from down below

I like Whiskey I like beer
I like the red ale aged in barrels here

Whiskey-O Johnny-O
Riser her up from down below Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o
Up aloft this yard myst go
John rise her up from down below

I thought I heard the old man say

I treat me crew in a decent way

Whiskey-O Johnny-O
Riser her up from down below Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o
Up aloft this yard myst go
John rise her up from down below

I treat me crew in a decent way Give ‘em whiskey twice a day

Whiskey-O Johnny-O
Riser her up from down below Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o
Up aloft this yard myst go
John rise her up from down below

A glass of whiskey all around
And a bottle full for the Shanty man

Whiskey-O Johnny-O
Riser her up from down below Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o
Up aloft this yard myst go
John rise her up from down below

 

The Leaving of Liverpool

“The Leaving of Liverpool" (Roud 9435), also known as "Fare Thee Well, My Own True Love", is a folk song. Folklorists classify it as a lyrical lament and it was also used as a sea shanty, especially at the capstan. It is very well known in Britain, Ireland, and America, despite the fact that it was collected only twice, from the Americans Richard Maitland and Captain Patrick Tayluer. It was collected from both singers by William Main Doerflinger, an American folk song collector particularly associated with sea songs in New York.

 

Fare thee well to you, my own true love There were many fare thee wells
I am bound for California
A place that I know right well

So fare thee well, my own true love
For when I return, united we will be
It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me But my darling when I think of thee

I am bound on a Yankee clipper ship Davy Crockett is her name

And her Captain's name it is Burgess And they say that she's a floating hell

So fare thee well, my own true love
For when I return, united we will be
It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me But my darling when I think of thee

Oh I've sailed with Burgess once before And I think I know him well
If a man's a sailor he will get along
If he's not then he's sure to tell

So fare thee well, my own true love
For when I return, united we will be
It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me But my darling when I think of thee

Oh the ship is in the harbour, love And I wish that I could remain
For I know it will be a long, long time Before I see you again

So fare thee well, my own true love
For when I return, united we will be
It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me But my darling when I think of thee

 

Blow the Man Down

Originating pre 1860’s and has many different versions. The term Blow the Man Down itself is widely debated. The song was sung on the Black Baller line but other versions exist that are not related to the Black Baller line and it is unknown exactly when or where this song originated. The version I am singing is a cautionary tale. Some captains were so bad and had such a terrible repuation that it was nearly impossible for them to find crew. So

they would use local woman and bar keeps to help get the young men overly intoxicated or possibly drugged. When the young man awakes, he is on a fishing boat and must work for survival.

 

Blow The Man Down
Oh, blow the man down, bullies, blow the man down Way hey blow the man down
Oh, blow the man down, bullies, blow the man down Give me some time to blow the man down!
As I was a walking down Paradise Street
Way hey blow the man down
A pretty young damsel I chanced for to meet.
Give me some time to blow the man down!
She was round in the counter and bluff in the bow, Way hey blow the man down
So I took in all sail and cried, “Way enough now.” Give me some time to blow the man down!
So I tailed her my flipper and took her in tow
Way hey blow the man down
And yardarm to yardarm away we did go.
Give me some time to blow the man down!
But as we were going she said unto me
Way hey blow the man down
“There’s a spanking full-rigger just ready for sea.” Give me some time to blow the man down!
But as soon as that packet was clear of the bar
Way hey blow the man down
The mate knocked me down with the end of a spar. Give me some time to blow the man down!
It’s starboard and larboard on deck you will sprawl Way hey blow the man down
For Kicking Jack Williams commands the Black Ball. Give me some time to blow the man down!
So I give you fair warning before we belay,
Way hey blow the man down
Don’t ever take head of what pretty girls say.
Give me some time to blow the man down!

Oh, blow the man down, bullies, blow the man down

Way hey blow the man down

Oh, blow him right back into Liverpool town

Give me some time to blow the man down! John Paul Jones is a

 

Pirate

John Paul Jones was a storied Scottish Naval commander whose career began at the age of 13 when he served as apprentice aboard the merchant ship Friendship. He sailed primarily on merchant ships until 1775 when he joined the American Navy in the American Revolutionary War. His career was fraught with major clashes with authority. While under service of the US his ship assisted a joint French-Spanish invasion fleet in 1779. In 1782, the last straw for Jones in America appears to have been when the US Congress voted to provide a ship he was given command of to the French, and he was re-tasked to a different cause in Europe in 1783. By 1787 Jones had entered into the service of Empress Catherine II of Russia, where he served during the Russo-Turkish War and gained distinction as a Rear Admiral. He died in 1792, not in battle, but from disease.

 

Set feet, row! (Repeated)

John Paul Jones is a pirate
No loyalty does he possess Keep it up we'll catch the pirate And sink him along with the rest

(Ho!)
Set feet, row! Set feet, row! Set feet, row! Set feet, row!

Born the son of a Scot, he was
Born the son of a Scot
But cut a man down in his prime, he did So away to Virginia he got

(Oh!)
John Paul Jones is a pirate
No loyalty does he possess Keep it up we'll catch the pirate And sink him along with the rest

(Ho!)
Set feet, row! Set feet, row! Set feet, row! Set feet, row!

Raise the flag of the Yanks, he did Raise the flag of the Yanks
They hailed him as a hero, they did And hoisted him up through the ranks

(Oh!)
John Paul Jones is a pirate
No loyalty does he possess Keep it up we'll catch the pirate And sink him along with the rest

(Ho!)
Set feet, row! Set feet, row! Set feet, row! Set feet, row!

Sailed at the head of the French, he did
Sailed at the head of the French
But they swindled him out of his cash, they did So away from them all he did wrench

(Oh!)
John Paul Jones is a pirate
No loyalty does he possess Keep it up we'll catch the pirate And sink him along with the rest

(Ho!)
Set feet, row! Set feet, row! Set feet, row! Set feet, row! Set feet, row! Set feet, row! Set feet, row! Set feet, row!

Now he's kicking up storms in the Black Sea, he is Kicking up storms in the Black Sea
Fighting the Turks for the Russian Queen
'Cause she pays him much more than the Yankee

(Oh!)
John Paul Jones is a pirate
No loyalty does he possess Keep it up we'll catch the pirate And sink him along with the rest

(Oh!)
John Paul Jones is a pirate
He may be just a chancer at best Keep it up we'll catch the pirate And sink him along with the rest

Ho!
 

Roll the Old Chariot

Following his victory at the Battle of Trafalgar, Nelson's body was preserved in a cask of brandy, or rum, to allow transport back to England. ‘Nelson's blood' became a nickname for rum.

The shanty was sung to accompany certain work tasks aboard sailing ships, especially those that required a bright walking pace. Song verses were made up of the things that sailors missed.

A drop of Nelsons blood, wouldn't do us any harm,

A drop of Nelsons blood, wouldn't do us any harm,

A drop of Nelsons blood, wouldn't do us any harm,

And we'll all hang on behind

So we'll roll the old chariot along, So we'll roll the old chariot along, So we'll roll the old chariot along, And we'll all hang on behind!

And another drop of rum wouldn’t do us any harm

another drop of rum wouldn’t do us any harm

Another drop of rum wouldn’t do us any harm

And we’ll all hang on behind

So we'll roll the old chariot along, So we'll roll the old chariot along, So we'll roll the old chariot along, And we'll all hang on behind!

Oh a pint full of ail wouldn’t do us any harm

A pint full of ail wouldn’t do us any harm

A pint full of ail wouldn’t do us any harm

And we’ll all hang on behind

So we'll roll the old chariot along, So we'll roll the old chariot along, So we'll roll the old chariot along, And we'll all hang on behind!

Oh a nice watch below wouldn’t do us any harm

A nice watch below wouldn’t do us any harm

A nice watch below wouldn’t do us any harm

And we’ll all hang on behind

So we'll roll the old chariot along, So we'll roll the old chariot along, So we'll roll the old chariot along, And we'll all hang on behind!

Oh, a night ashore wouldn’t do us any harm

A night ashore wouldn’t do us any harm

A night ashore wouldn’t do us any harm

And we’ll all hang on behind

So we'll roll the old chariot along, So we'll roll the old chariot along, So we'll roll the old chariot along, And we'll all hang on behind!

Oh, a night with the girls wouldn’t do us any harm

A night with the girls wouldn’t do us any harm

A night with the girls wouldn’t do us any harm

And we’ll all hang on behind

So we'll roll the old chariot along, So we'll roll the old chariot along, So we'll roll the old chariot along, And we'll all hang on behind!

And a drop of Nelson’s blood wouldn’t do us any harm

A drop of Nelson’s blood wouldn’t do us any harm

A drop of Nelson’s blood wouldn’t do us any harm

And we’ll all hang on behind

So we'll roll the old chariot along, So we'll roll the old chariot along, So we'll roll the old chariot along, And we'll all hang on behind!

 

Spanish Ladies

A ballad by the name "Spanish Ladies" was registered in
the English Stationer's Company on December 14, 1624. The oldest mention of the present song does not, however, appear until the 1796 logbook of HMS Nellie making it more likely an invention of the Napoleonic era. The timing of the mention in the Nellie's logbook suggests that the song was created during the War of the First Coalition (1793–96), when the Royal Navy carried supplies to Spain to aid its resistance
to revolutionary France. It probably gained in popularity during the
later Peninsular War when British soldiers were transported throughout the Iberian peninsula to assist rebels fighting against the French occupation. After their victory over the Grande Armée, these soldiers were returned to Britain but forbidden to bring their Spanish wives, lovers, and children with them.

The song predates the proper emergence of the sea shanty. Shanties were the work songs of merchant sailors, rather than naval ones. However, in his 1840 novel Poor Jack, Captain Frederick Marryat reports that the song "Spanish Ladies"—though once very popular—was "now almost forgotten" and he included it in whole in order to "rescue it from oblivion". The emergence of shanties in the mid-19th century then revived its fortunes, to the point where it is now sometimes included as a "borrowed song" within the genre.

 

Farewell and adieu to you, Spanish Ladies Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain;
For we've received orders for to sail for old England But we hope very soon we shall see you again

We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar
all on the salt seas
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England; From Ushant to Scilly is 35 leagues

We hove our ship to
with the wind from sou'west, boys
We hove our ship to
deep soundings to take;
'Twas forty-five fathoms, with a white sandy bottom
So we squared our main yard and up channel did make

We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar
all on the salt seas
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England; From Ushant to Scilly is 35 leagues

The first land we sighted was calléd the Dodman Next Rame Head off Plymouth
Start Portland and Wight
We sailed by Beachy

By Fairlight and Dover
And then we bore up for the South Foreland light

We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar
all on the salt seas
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England; From Ushant to Scilly is 35 leagues

Then the signal was made for the grand fleet to anchor And all in the Downs that night for to lie;

Let go your shank painter, let go your cat stopper

Haul up your clewgarnets,

let tacks and sheets fly!

We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar
all on the salt seas
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England; From Ushant to Scilly is 35 leagues

Now let ev'ry man drink off his full bumper
And let ev'ry man drink off his full glass
We'll drink and be jolly and drown melancholy And here's to the health of each true-hearted lass

We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar
all on the salt seas
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England; From Ushant to Scilly is 35 leagues

 

Irish Rover

​

....Hey....Hey..........Hey

On the fourth of July, 1806
We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks For the Grand City Hall in New York
'Twas a wonderful craft
She was rigged fore and aft
And oh, how the wild wind drove her

She stood several blasts
She had twenty-seven masts
And they called her The Irish Rover

....Hey....Hey..........Hey

We had one million bags of the best Sligo Rags
We had two million barrels of stone
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides We had four million barrels of bones
We had five million hogs
Six million dogs
Seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million bails of old nanny goats' tails In the hold of The Irish Rover

....Hey....Hey..........Hey

There was ol' Mickey Coote
Who played hard on his flute
When the ladies lined up for a set
He was tootin' with skill
For each sparkling quadrille
Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet With his smart witty talk
He was cock of the walk
And he rolled the dames under and over They all knew at a glance
When he took up his stance
That he sailed in The Irish Rover

....Hey....Hey..........Hey

There was Barney McGee
From the banks of the Lee
There was Hogan from County Tyrone There was Johnny McGurk
Who was scared stiff of work
And a man from Westmeath called Malone There was Slugger O'Toole
Who was drunk as a rule
And fighting Bill Treacy from Dover
And your man, Mick MacCann
From the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper on The Irish Rover

....Hey....Hey..........Hey

For the sailor it's always a bother in life It's so lonesome by night and by day That he longs for the shore
And a charming young whore

Who will melt all his troubles away
Oh, the noise and the rout
Swillin' poitin and stout
For him soon the torment's over
Of the love of a maid, he is never afraid That old salt from The Irish Rover

....Hey....Hey..........Hey

We had sailed seven years
When the measles broke out
And the ship lost its way in the fog And that whale of a crew

Was reduced down to two
Just myself and the Captain's old dog Then the ship struck a rock
Oh Lord, what a shock
The bulkhead was turned right over Turned nine times around
And the poor old dog was drowned And the last of The Irish Rover

 

John Kanaka

This was a “long haul” chantey, used at the halyards for hoisting up the sails. Many Hawaiians worked aboard ships that sailed the Pacific, and were renowned for their excellent seamanship. English-speaking sailors often had difficulty pronouncing their names, however and so called them by the Hawaiian name "Kanaka," which means "Hawaiian Man." The lyrics "tu lai-e" also come from the Hawaiian language, and are a remnant of the chantey singing tradition of combining the music and language of different seafaring cultures.

 

I heard, I heard the old man say, hey

John kanakanaka tura yay,

Today is a holiday

John kanakanaka tura yay, Tura yay, oh, tura yay, John kanakanaka tura yay,

We’ll work tomorrow, but not today

John kanakanaka tura yay,

We’ll work tomorrow, but not today

John kanakanaka tura yay, Tura yay, oh, tura yay, John Kanakanaka tura yay

We’re bout away from frisko bay

John kanakanaka tura yay,

We’re bout away the break of day

John kanakanaka tura yay, Tura yay, oh, tura yay John kanakanaka tura yay,

Them 'Frisco girls ain't got no combs

John kanakanaka tura yay,

They comb their hair with a herring bone

John kanakanaka tura yay, Tura yay, oh, tura yay John kanakanaka tura yay,

Hal away, oh hal away

John kanakanaka tura yay,

Oh hal away and earn your pay

John kanakanaka tura yay, Tura yay, oh, tura yay
John kanaka kanaka tura yay.

 

South Australia

As an original worksong it was sung in a variety of trades, including being used by the wool and later the wheat traders who worked the clipper ships between Australian ports and London. In adapted form, it is now a very popular song among folk music performers that is recorded by many artists and is present in many of today's song books. Fist published 1888

 

In South Australia I was born

Heave away haul away

In South Australia 'round Cape Horn

We're bound for South Australia

Haul away your rolling king heave away haul away

Haul away you'll hear me sing we're bound for South Australia

Haul away your rolling king heave away haul away

Haul away you'll hear me sing we're bound for South Australia

As I walked out one morning fair

Heave away haul away

'Twas there I met Miss Nancy Blair

We're bound for South Australia

Haul away your rolling king heave away haul away

Haul away you'll hear me sing we're bound for South Australia

Haul away your rolling king heave away haul away

Haul away you'll hear me sing we're bound for South Australia

just one thing that's on my mind

Heave away haul away

That's leaving Nancy Blair behind

We're bound for South Australia

Haul away your rolling king heave away haul away

Haul away you'll hear me sing we're bound for South Australia

Haul away your rolling king heave away haul away

Haul away you'll hear me sing we're bound for South Australia

And as we wallop round Cape Horn

Heave away haul away

You'll wish to God you've never been born

We're bound for South Australia

Haul away your rolling king heave away haul away

Haul away you'll hear me sing we're bound for South Australia

Haul away your rolling king heave away haul away

Haul away you'll hear me sing we're bound for South Australia

In South Australia I was born

Heave away haul away

In South Australia 'round Cape Horn

We're bound for South Australia

 

Molly Malone

First published in 1888

 

In Dublin's fair city
Where the girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
As she wheeled her wheelbarrow
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!" Alive, alive, oh
Alive, alive, oh
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh"

She was a fishmonger
And sure 'twas no wonder
For so were her father and mother before
And they both wheeled their barrows
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh Alive, alive, oh
Alive, alive, oh
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh

She died of a fever
And no one could save her
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
But her ghost wheels her barrow
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh Alive, alive, oh
Alive, alive, oh
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh Alive, alive, oh
Alive, alive, oh
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh

 

​

Paddy on the Railway

​

In eighteen hundred and forty one Me corduroy breeches I put on
Me corduroy breeches I put on
To work upon the railway, the railway I'm weary of the railway

Poor Paddy works on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty two From Bartley Pool I moved to Crewe And I found me self a job to do Workin' on the railway

I was wearing corduroy britches
Digging ditches, pulling switches, dodging hitches I was workin' on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty three I broke me shovel across me knee And went to work with the company In the Leeds and Selby Railway

I was wearing corduroy britches
Digging ditches, pulling switches, dodging hitches I was workin' on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty four
I landed on the Liverpool shore
Me belly was empty, me hands were soar

With workin' on the railway, the railway I'm weary of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty five When Danny O'Connell he was alive Danny O'Connell he was alive
And workin' on the railway

I was wearing corduroy britches
Digging ditches, pulling switches, dodging hitches I was workin' on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty six
I changed me trade from carryin' bricks
Changed me trade from carryin' bricks
To work upon the railway
I was wearing corduroy britches
Digging ditches, pulling switches, dodging hitches I was workin' on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty seven
Poor Paddy was thinkin' of goin' to heaven
Poor Paddy was thinkin' of goin' to heaven
To work upon the railway, the railway
I'm weary of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway
I was wearing corduroy britches
Digging ditches, pulling switches, dodging hitches I was workin' on the railway

 

Randy Dandy O

A traditional shanty dating to the late 18th century, and one of the earliest of its kind. This song reportedly influenced a number of others. Captain John Robinson dates the earliest version of the song in its current form to Canada in 1917, under the title "Galloping Randy Dandy O."

 

Now we are ready to head for the Horn

Way hey, roll and go!

Our boots and our clothes, boys, are all in the pawn To me, rollicking randy dandy-o!

Heave a pawl, and heave away!
Way hey, roll and go!
The anchor's on board and the cables all stored To me rollicking randy dandy-o!

Man the stout capstan and heave with a will!

Way hey, roll and go!

Soon we'll be driving her 'way down the hill! To me, rollicking randy dandy-o!

Heave a pawl, and heave away!
Way hey, roll and go!
The anchor's on board and the cables all stored To me rollicking randy dandy-o!

Soon we'll be warping her out through the locks,

Way hey, roll and go!

where the pretty young girls all come down in flocks To me, rollicking randy dandy-o!

Heave a pawl, and heave away!

Way hey, roll and go!
The anchor's on board and the cables all stored To me rollicking randy dandy-o!

We're outward bound for Vallipo Bay

Way hey, roll and go!

Get crackin' me lads, 'tis a hell of a way. To me, rollicking randy dandy-o!

Heave a pawl, and heave away!
Way hey, roll and go!
The anchor's on board and the cables all stored To me rollicking randy dandy-o!

Heave a pawl, and heave away!
Way hey, roll and go!
The anchor's on board and the cables all stored To me rollicking randy dandy-o!

 

​

All for Me Grog

​

And it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog

All for me beer and tobacco

Well i've spent all me tin with the ladys drinking gin

Far across the western ocean i must wander

I'm sick in the head and i haven't been to bed

Since first i came ashore with me plunder

I've seen centipedes and snakes and my head is full of aches

And i'll have to make a path for way out yonder

And it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog

All for me beer and tobacco

Well i've spent all me tin with the ladys drinking gin

Far across the western ocean i must wander

Where are me boots, me noggin' noggin' boots

They're all gone for beer and tobacco

You see the soles were getting thin and the uppers were letting in

And the heels are looking out for better weather

And it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog

All for me beer and tobacco

Well i've spent all me tin with the ladys drinking gin

Far across the western ocean i must wander

Where is me shirt me noggin' noggin' shirt

It's all gone for beer and tobacco

You see the sleeves they got worn out and the collar was turned about

And the tail is looking out for better weather

And it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog

All for me beer and tobacco

Well i've spent all me tin with the ladys drinking gin

Far across the western ocean i must wander

Oh, where is me bed, me noggin' noggin' bed

It's all gone for beer and tobacco

You see i sold it to the girls and the springs they got all twirls

And the sheets they're looking out for better weather

And it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog

All for me beer and tobacco

Well i've spent all me tin with the ladys drinking gin

Far across the western ocean i must wander

And it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog

All for me beer and tobacco

Well i've spent all me tin with the ladys drinking gin

Far across the western ocean i must wander

​

Bully in the Alley
A classic shanty. “Bully” = passed out drunk.

 

Help me Bob, I’m bully in the alley,

Way hey, Bully in the alley,

Help me Bob, I’m bully in the alley,

Bully down in Shinbone al.

Sally is a girl that I loved dearly,

Way hey, Bully in the alley,

She had my heart or very nearly,

Bully down in Shinbone al.

For seven long years I courted little Sally,

Way hey, Bully in the alley,

All she did was dilly and dally,

Bully down in Shinbone al.

I bought her silks, I bought her laces

Way hey, Bully in the alley,

I took her out to many fine places,

Bully down in Shinbone al.

I bought her gin, I bought her rum-o

Way hey, Bully in the alley,

I bought her wine both white and red-o,

Bully down in Shinbone al.

I left my Sal, I went a-sailing,

Way hey, Bully in the alley,

Signed on a big ship, went a-whaling,

Bully down in Shinbone al.

If ever I get back, I’ll marry little Sally,

Way hey, Bully in the alley,

Have six kids and live in Shinbone alley,

Bully down in Shinbone al.

 

Johnny Leave Her

The "her" being left is not a woman, but the ship. This shanty was traditionally sung when the ship was at port after it had docked in the final spell at the pumps. Stan Hugill traces its origins to a shanty, Across the Rockies, which was sung on Western Ocean packets, possibly as early as the time of the Potato Famine.

Thematically, this shanty is known as a growling shanty. Growling shanties communicate disapproval of the living conditions of a sailor. Since sailors would be punished if they were to complain to an officer of the ship, they would present their frustrations in the form of growling shanties. Second, Leave Her, Johnny was a pumping song. Pumping songs would be used while pumping the ship dry. This particular one was sung at the end of a journey when a shipped would be docked.

 

I thought I heard the old man say,

Leave her, Johnny, leave her,

It's a long, hard pull to the next payday

And it's time for us to leave her.

Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her,

Oh the voyage is done and the winds don't blow, And it's time for us to leave her!

Oh, the skipper was bad, but the mate was worse.

Leave her, Johnny, leave her,

He'd blow you down with a spike and a curse,

And it's time for us to leave her.

Leave her, Johnny, leave her!
Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her,
For the voyage is done and the winds don't blow, And it's time for us to leave her!

Oh pull you lubbers or you'll get no pay.

Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her,

Oh pull you lubbers and then belay,

And it's time for us to leave her!

Leave her, Johnny, leave her!
Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her,
For the voyage is done and the winds don't blow, And it's time for us to leave her!

And now it's time to say goodbye

Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her,

Them pilings they is a-drawing nigh,

And it's time for us to leave her!

Leave her, Johnny, leave her!
Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her,
For the voyage is done and the winds don't blow, And it's time for us to leave her!

I thought I heard the old man say,

Leave her, Johnny, leave her,

It's a long, hard pull to your next payday

And it's time for us to leave her.

Leave her, Johnny, leave her!
Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her,
Oh the voyage is done and the winds don't blow, And it's time for us to leave her!

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